Daised & Confused
by River P. Greil
Summary: George begins feeling strange when Mason & Daisy begin going out...but she soon realizes that it wasn't Mason whom she felt something for...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Dead Like Me" or its characters in any way—le gasp. No really… I swear I don't. I know, I know, it's hard to believe that a fifteen-year-old girl doesn't own the rights to a television show, but… it's the sad truth.

Okay! Now for my quick note before the story! Well… this is an odd pairing… George+Mason fans (such as myself) might be slightly disturbed… but… I'm hoping you'll like it! It's a stretch…Daisy+George. Okay, my second fanfiction begins nnnnnn…ow.

Work is murder. And that's not me speaking as a grim reaper, that's me speaking as the new… well, whatever it was that Delores did before.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Millie," Delores chirped, "Hiring and fir–I mean 'letting go,' oh… it's just a beautiful parallel of the circle of life…"

"Ummm, Delores…" I asked nervously.

"Yes, Millie?"

'What exactly is your job title?' I told myself, just ask, 'What the hell is it that you do?' Just fucking ask.

"Uhh… nothing," Oh come on, you idiot! She won't think you're stupid or unprofessional. She never told you, why would she expect you to know? "I was just going to ask… where you got that _lovely _sweater vest from."

"Oh, well," Delores blushed and then shifted her eyes from side to side. Her face got close to mine and she whispered as if it was her best-kept secret, "I got it on sale at the Anne Tyler Loft."

"Delores?" I whispered, "Why are we whispering?"

"I saw Katherine eying it _all_ morning and I wouldn't want her buying it and cramping my style."

Inadvertently I gave my okay-you're-crazy look which I quickly masked with a non-convincing, "Oh."

"Millie…?"

"Yes?"  
"Post-its."

"Huh?"  
"Your desk. You have one, two, three–seven little pads of post-its."

"And…?"  
"Well pack them, you silly goose," Delores laughed and then in a more serious tone said, "Now that you're administrator, you can't go around procrastinating."

"But, Delores, it's just a few post-its, I mean, you only told me about my promotion earlier today and I'm already packed…"

"Millie, stop coming up with excuses," Delores side glanced-me with that stupid I'm-not-too-pleased look, "And always remember, cleanliness is next to godliness."

And then she twittered off.

"Goddamn," I said to myself, "It was just a few post-its."

Okay, so maybe it's not murder, but lately I haven't been able to deal with Delores. She's so… happy. Genuinely happy. How can someone…just–well whatever. It's just been weird ever since Daisy and Mason got together.

I didn't think it would affect me, but… every time they kissed–

Flashback:

_One morning at Die Waffle Haus; Daisy is sitting across from Mason with her hands entangled in his as they kiss each other passionately and a grossed out George watches._

–I… didn't feel naucious as much as I felt like shit. I mean, I never knew I felt this way about Mason. I mean… when I'm alone with him, he never makes me feel like that…

"I can't hear you packing those post-its!" Delores called from the other cubicle.

"Sorry!" I called back, "I'll get right to it!"

Fucking crazy bitch. Since when does _she_ have sonic hearing?

_Okay… short, I know, but I was a little doubtful about the premise of this fic so I wanted to know what you guys think before I dedicate more time to this. Chack out my other DLM fic, _**Should I Stay Or Should I Go?**_, it's a pretty good Mason+George pairing(definetly better then this) and the reviews are pretty good. RiV_


	2. Kiss Of UnDeath

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Dead Like Me" or its characters in any way—le gasp. No really… I swear I don't. I know, I know, it's hard to believe that a fifteen-year-old girl doesn't own the rights to a television show, but… it's the sad truth.

Okay, Ukari, Chiara, and a couple other friends of mine want me to continue with this story, so you know what? I will. I will be writing very short chaps because I have so many other stories to work on. Okay, I'm hoping you'll like this newest installment of "Daised and Confused."

"Daisy!" I yelled running into the house with Mason behind me, "Daisy!"

I heard a low groan from the kitchen, and my body ached knowing that it was her.

"Did you hear that?" I asked Mason, throwing my shoulder bag onto the couch and dashing into the kitchen.

"No, what'd you 'ear?" Mason followed a few steps behind me.

"No!" I entered the room to see Daisy lying on the floor with her soul peaking through her body in parts as her charred body seemed to be collapsing upon itself.

"Mason, what happened to her!"

"She said she wanted to just cook a l'tle something fo' me and then when I 'eard her scream, I came to see what happened 'nd she was on fire, she was!"

"And you didn't do anything!" I sobbed, "Mason, you _idiot_! Oh my god, why hasn't she healed yet? Why is her soul separating?"

"It won't separate completely," Mason looked at me with worry, "I don't know why?"

"Oh my god," I looked in shock and fear, " She can _feel _all of this?"

"Georgie, save her," he began to cry, "I don't know what to do!"

"I don't know either! Mason, call Rube right now! What, but–"

"Do it goddammit! Do it if you love her!"

"I–we hadn't gotten that far–"

"Mason, goddammit! Call Rube!"

Mason ran off to find Rube's number.

I walked over to Daisy, with a confidence in myself as her solace that had no reasonable grounds. I arched my back so that I could put my forehead to hers and I took her hands in mine. With all that I could muster, my insides screamed to let her out. It didn't work, but I still didn't lose faith. I stroked her arms to try to remove her soul. Her arms reached out and grabbed me faintly, part of her hands sinking into my skin. Daisy's face had still maintained its perfection and was barely burnt. She groaned again. I knew what I had to do to free her. I looked around and saw no sight of Mason. With a wild passion I brought my face to hers and kissed her. Her soul lifted from her body and took my hands in hers to lift me to my feet. In shock at her solidity, I was rendered speechless.

She let my arms fall onto her hips and she placed her hands loosely onto my shoulders. Slowly she brought her face closer to mine, parting her lips ever so slightly and–

"Georgia! Georgia!" came the sing-song voice of the undead Daisy, "Georgia, wake up! We need to get going."

I opened my eyes slowly and wearily.

"Huh?" I rubbed my eyes to see the sundress-clad Daisy holding up an outfit and a pair of shoes as she entered my bedroom, "You're alive?"

"Ha-ha, very funny, Miss Georgia," Daisy rolled her eyes, "We all know the answer to _that_ one."

"What's that?" I said noticing the outfit in her hands.

"_This_," Daisy said laying the ensemble gently on my bed, "Is what you will be wearing today."

"Why?" I wondered still confused. Had I dreamt all that? Why had I dreamt _that I had kissed Daisy!_

"Because you're a beautiful girl who has a very bad sense of style," Daisy smiled and turned around, making her skirt twirl and then walked to the door, "I expect you to be wearing those when you get downstairs."

Not cute, not pretty, but _beautiful_. Daisy had said I was beautiful. My face flushed red and I was glad that Daisy hadn't been there to see.


End file.
